


My Life Up Until Now

by MDFawn



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Actor Luke, Alternate Universe, Director Noah, M/M, Major Character Death (after a long life), Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-17 08:03:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDFawn/pseuds/MDFawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in 1940s Hollywood isn't simple for a gay man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

     “I can’t believe we’re having this same argument again.” Kyle said in exasperation.

     Brett’s glance didn’t waver. “We’re not having an argument. We’re having a discussion.”

     Kyle throw up his hands in frustration, turned and stormed away. He walked over to the condo’s window trying to calm himself. He and Brett had truly lucked out when they found this place overlooking the San Bernardino Valley and close to all the studios. What more could a screenwriter and a director want or need. Well he knew what this screenwriter needed. Commitment. He turned around at the jingling sound of keys being picked up.

     “Where are you going?” He whispered, hurt evident for anyone to hear.

     Brett stood still for a second. “You know it’s my weekend at Wasserman.”

     He watched as the hurt in Kyle’s hazel eyes turned to the slow burn of anger. “We’re in the middle of something important and of course you’re going to race off and take care of strangers rather than take care of us.” Kyle snapped.

     Brett walked over and slowly reached up and gripped his boyfriend’s arms. “I’m not taking care of others and not us. I’ve asked you several times to come with me. Come?”

     “I don’t want to go with you. I want to talk about this.” Kyle whined. He didn’t want to admit it, but he sounded like a spoiled brat even to his own ears.

     Brett sighed. “I made the commitment. I have to go.”

     “At least you can make a commitment.” Kyle mumbled under his breath, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Just not to me.”

     Brett felt the words like a slap across his face. He dropped his hands down to his side and took a deep breath. “Come with me, please? We can talk in the car.” Brett tried ducking down in an effort to catch his partner’s eyes. “Please, Kay.”

     He got his answer as Kyle walked over and grabbed his jacket and started pulling it on.

 

* * *

 

     The small, red sports car accelerated quickly in order to merge with the speeding traffic on the Ventura Freeway. It had been seven years and Brett still wasn’t use to the craziness of California drivers. As he eased into his lane, he glanced over at this still silent companion. Silence was not one of Kyle’s strong points, never had been in the six years they had been together.

     ‘Six years.’ Brett shook his head in wonder. It didn’t seem that long ago when Brett Allen, a Film Production Major fresh out of UCLA Film School, had met Kyle James the new writer on the cable drama he had been working on. But here it was six years later, with a thriving relationship. Hetero or Homo, that long in Hollywood was an accomplishment.

     “So, are we going to talk?” He asked quietly.

     Kyle sat looking out the passenger side window, watching the speeding cars pass them by. It still frightened the Michigan kid inside him the speed at which Californians’ did everything.

     ‘Not everything.’ He snorted. “What do you want me to say, Brett?”

     “Look, I know you’re upset but you know how I feel about it.” He began. This wasn’t new ground they were covering, but with the recent Supreme Court ruling he had known his boyfriend would be bringing the subject up again.

     “Yeah, I know how you feel.” Kyle whispered, looking out the window. He couldn’t look at his partner right now or he’d lose it.

     Brett sighed at the hurt tone in Kyle’s voice. “Kyle . . .” He began but was cut off.

     “Just stop!” Kyle finally snapped, turning and looking at Brett. “It’s finally legal, here, where we live. We’re in love. We’re together, have been for six years. I want to get married, why don’t you?”

     “I do.” Brett sighed leaning his head back against the headrest. “You know that. You also know whey I don’t think we should.”

     “Bullshit!”

     “Excuse me?” Brett nearly chocked out surprised by Kyle’s uncharacteristic language.

     “Your reason. It’s bullshit.” Kyle said slowly as if talking to a child. “In 2016 you think that two openly gay men, married, in Hollywood of all places, would still be discriminated against?” Kyle asked doubtfully.

     “Don’t act like it’s a stretch, Kyle. We see it all the time in this town. Look at all the great actors and actresses and as soon as they’re out they suddenly aren’t being offered the same choice roles they were before.”

     “They’re actors, Brett.” Kyle snapped in frustration, again turning his head away to look out the window. “It’s different. We’re behind the scenes.”

     Silence stretched between them as Brett took the exit for Woodland Hills. It always fascinated him every time he made this trip how 20 minutes could take you from downtown LA to this wooded, almost suburban setting. He turned into the now familiar gate and quickly found a parking space and turned the car off.

     “Kay, I love you so much.” He began and turned toward his silent boyfriend. “It’s been so easy for us. I’m just scared that suddenly it’s going to catch up with us.”

     Kyle silently nodded his head. “You love me but not enough to take this step?”

     Brett watched as silent tear coursed down Kyle’s cheek. “I promise I’ll think about it, Kay.”

     Kyle turned at that and their eyes locked, Brett’s deep brown eyes giant pools of love. He’d been in love with Brett from the first moment they met and would probably love him until the very moment he died. “Okay.” He whispered.

     Brett leaned over and softly pressed his lips to Kyle’s. “I promise. We will get married.”

     Kyle smiled into the kiss and the smile was reflected back at him as he and Brett’s lips parted.

 

* * *

 

     If Kyle closed his eyes he could almost make himself believe that they were walking into an upscale resort, nestled into the wooded environs outside LA. Small, white bungalows surrounded by plush foliage, dispersed throughout the area around the larger, white building they were now entering.

     He hadn’t ever come here before. Always feeling it was Brett’s ‘little service project’ not his. He’d been mildly surprised two years ago when Brett came home from a Director’s Guild conference with the literature and told him that he had already signed up for two Saturdays a month. As they walked through the automatic sliding doors of the main building, the illusion of a posh resort started to fade. There wasn’t the smell that he remembered. The residents didn’t seem as sad and disconnected as his grandfather had been. Brett stopped at the reception desk to sign in and was greeted by a radiantly smiling elderly African-American woman. 

     “Brett honey, I forgot this was your Saturday.” She smiled even more broadly as her eyes slipped past Brett and landed on Kyle. “And who is this?”

     Kyle heard a soft chuckle escape Brett’s throat. “Sarah, you know perfectly well who this is.” He slipped his arm around Kyle’s waist pulling him closer. “You’ve seen Kyle’s picture.”

     If possible, she seemed to smile even larger. “How are you doing, Mr. Kyle? So nice that Brett finally talked you into coming in.”

     Kyle smiled hesitantly back at Sarah. His nerves were at last catching up with him. He had promised himself after his grandfather’s death he would never set foot in one of these places again, but here he was at the Motion Picture and Television Fund’s Retirement Home surrounded by aging directors, writers, actors, actresses and others from his own industry.

     “So, I guess we need to get you set up with someone.” Sarah asked looking at him expectantly.

     Kyle shifted self-consciously, looking to Brett for help. He had followed Brett here to continue their discussion. He hadn’t thought past that. Now, unfortunately, here he was and he didn’t know how to get out of it. Kyle looked over at Brett and saw the slight light of hope in his eyes and then saw it fade as Brett took in Kyle’s shocked and pleading look for assistance.

     “I think Kyle will just be shadowing me today, Sarah.” He said quietly, disappointment evident. Sarah nodded her head and smiled sadly over at Kyle.

     “No, wait.” Kyle heard himself say. Both the receptionist and his boyfriend looked at him slowly. Hopefully. “Maybe just for today.” He said nervously as he watched a smile breakout on Brett’s face.

     “Great.” Sarah exclaimed as she turned and started searching her desk for something.

     Brett hugged him quickly, kissing him on his cheek. “Thank you.”

     “For what?” 

     “You know how much this project means to me.” Brett whispered. “And I know how uncomfortable these places make you.”

     Kyle smiled shyly and leaned in for another quick kiss. “I know it is. Will I get to meet your Sandy?”

     “Of course.” Brett said with a nod of his head.

     “Here we go, Kyle.” Sarah seemed to pop up from where she had been digging around under her desk. “We have a new resident in The Frances Goldwyn Lodge section that could use a volunteer.”

     “Wait, that might be a little much for Kyle.” Brett said with concern. He loved that Kyle wanted to finally get involved, but The Frances Goldwyn Lodge was the portion of the retirement home reserved for residents with major and serious health issues.

     Kyle was now also wary, visions of the last few months of his grandfather’s life flashing through his mind.

     “No, I think Kyle will be just fine with Mr. Snyder.” Sarah came around the desk, stepping between the two men, looping her arms through theirs. Without even realizing it all three started walking down the hallway deeper into the retirement home. 

     “Mr. Snyder came to us about two months ago after a series of small strokes.” Sarah continued as they walked passed various rooms, each with a group of residents in the middle of different activities. There were the typical things that Kyle was use to, television watching, crafts, limited mobility exercise. What surprised him were the activities that would only be typical for those in their industry. They passed several rooms where it seemed that residents were in the middle of discussions, almost debates even, on different aspects of the industry. There were discussions that ranged from the differences between the old studio system versus the independence of today’s film makers, to stars of old Hollywood versus today’s Celebrity. Kyle was shaking his head at the differences he was seeing from the things he remembered back in Michigan and his grandfather. 

     Kyle jerked out of his memories as he realized Sarah was talking to him.

     “Mr. Snyder has been and still is undergoing occupational therapy. He’s regained some limited use of his arms and his speech is improving. Although, he seems to be a bit on the reserved side.” She explained as they reached the courtyard that was set in the back of the main building. They were gazing out to an almost zen-like garden with minimalist landscaping, a quiet reflecting pond and what seemed to be various meditation spots sprinkled through the courtyard. 

     “That’s him over there in the wheelchair. He asks to come out almost every day for a few hours and he seems at peace there.” She looked over at Kyle. “I think you two would be a wonderful fit.”

     Kyle looked past the elderly woman to see Brett’s openly questioning look that seemed to say, ‘are you okay with this?’ Kyle took a deep breath and took a firm hold on his fears. “So how do we start this?”

     Both Sarah and Brett’s smiles would have blinded him if he had been looking at them, but at that moment he was taking a closer look at the gentleman sitting quietly in the wheelchair near the reflecting pool. He sat peacefully gazing out over the garden. 

     “How old is he anyway? Will he be offended by . . . you know, us?” Kyle said without taking his eyes off of the man.

     Sarah suppressed a gentle smile. “He’s 90. From the little that I’ve been able to gather he was married, but is now widowed and pretty much alone. He made the arrangement to come here almost three years ago.”

     “Organized man.” Brett whispered softly as he walked around Sarah to stand behind his boyfriend. He gently placed his chin on Kyle’s should so he could easily whisper in his ear. “You sure about this, Kay?”

     “I’m fine.” Kyle smiled slowly. “Go have fun with Sandy and I’ll catch up with you in a few.”

     Brett leaned forward and softly kissed Kyle’s cheek. “Sarah will be able to show you where I am. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

     “Love you, too.” Kyle said watching as Brett walked off down one of the adjoining hallways. He looked back and realized that he was suddenly hesitant. He had to close his eyes for a moment as the memories of another time and another man came back. Memories of hours spent playing Clue and sharing a favorite bench at sunset. 

     “Let’s get you two introduced.” Sarah said as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and walked across the stone patio toward the man as Kyle slowly followed behind. 

     “Mr. Snyder?” Sarah quietly announced hoping not to surprise the elderly man. “I’ve got a volunteer that would like to meet you and maybe you two could spend some time together.”

     Kyle could see that the man might have a lot of physical problems, but hearing wasn’t one of them. He turned his head slightly from the pond and smiled in Sarah’s direction. His nearly snow white hair gently rustled by the summer breeze. Sarah walked to one side of the gentleman’s chair and motioned for Kyle to stand on the other.

     “Mr. Snyder, this is Kyle James. Mr. James, this is Noah Snyder.”

     Of all the things that Kyle had expected as he walked up to the elderly gentleman, the surprise of the clear, shockingly blue eyes that looked up at him from a face wearing a gentle lopsided grin was not one of them.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

     Kyle had stood transfixed for a few seconds by the stunningly blue eyes that stared out of the weathered 90-year-old face of the man in front of him.  Sarah had led them over to a shady seat and started the introductions. Telling Mr. Snyder that Kyle was a screenwriter on a cable show and that Brett, his partner, was a director. 

     For just having met Sarah less than an hour ago, Kyle could have kissed her for broaching the subject of his sexuality for him. He watched as several emotions quickly played across the elderly man’s face. So quickly, in fact, that Kyle wasn’t able to identify them before they were gone and replaced by the lopsided grin again.

     “Mr. Snyder was also a director, Kyle.” Sarah said smiling in his direction. “I think you two will have plenty in common.”

     “I’d love the opportunity to talk to you and hear the stories about the ‘golden age’ of Hollywood, Mr. Snyder.” Kyle smiled back without even realizing he was mirroring the older gentleman’s smile.

     “Call me Noah, please.” A quiet, measured voice said. There was a bit of hesitation with the pronunciation of his own name, but Kyle had actually expected Noah’s speech to be much harder to understand after having had several strokes. 

     “Only if you call me Kyle, Noah.” Kyle answered.  A nod in the affirmative was the only answer he needed.

     “Well, I’ll leave you two young men to visiting.” Sarah said as she awkwardly pulled herself to her feet. “I’ve got to be getting back to the front desk.  You two have a good time.”

     They both watched as the elderly African-American woman made her way across the patio and back into the main building.  
Kyle turned back unsure where to go from here but Noah, it seemed, had it under control.

     “So you’re a screenwriter?” He asked as he shifted slightly in his wheelchair. Reaching down, he gently lifted his right foot out of the stirrups that it was in and slowly stretched it out.  Kyle watched the man cautiously ease his obviously cramped leg. He was amazed to see that Noah wasn’t as small a man as he had first thought. He was sure that even at the age of 90 that the man, when standing, would still be over 6-foot-tall.  His heart went out to him. He knew confining that tall of a frame to a wheelchair must surely be uncomfortable. 

     Noah looked up and into the compassion that stood in Kyle’s hazel eyes. He was frozen by the familiarity of those eyes to another set that he had known only too well. Noah swallowed thickly around the sudden lump in his throat. “You’re a screenwriter?”

     Kyle realized that he hadn’t answered Noah question.  “Yes, I’m a writer. Just a staff writer on a cable show.” He smiled wickedly. “We’ve all got to start some place.”  The grin returned to Noah’s face and Kyle realized that the man had obviously found what he had said humorous. “What? What’s so funny?”

     A small chuckle escaped the elderly director’s lips as he looked directly at Kyle. “Nothing, you just remind me of someone. Someone I knew a long time ago.”

     “Well, I hope it was someone good.” Kyle shot back with his own smile.

     “Oh, very good.” Noah smiled wistfully as he was lost in memories again.

     Kyle was caught off guard by the wicked looking gleam in the older man’s eyes. He was starting to think that maybe nobody really knew the man they had set him up with. “So tell me about your career during the ‘Golden Age.’” Kyle asked seriously. When he had been in college, the ‘30s and ‘40s of Hollywood had fascinated him. Now was his opportunity to get the truth. To talk to someone who actually lived and worked during that seemingly magical time in Hollywood. 

     Noah gazed out over the garden that surrounded them. Kyle could see that the grin that had seemed a permanent fixture on Noah’s face had slipped slightly.  “It wasn’t always so golden.” Noah said slowly as he turned his blue eyes back to the young screenwriter.

     “We learned about the Studio System when I was in school. We continually debated whether it was better or worse than the way the industry is today.” Kyle said quietly. He knew from all of the discussions and debates that being gay in 1940s Hollywood hadn’t been a walk in the park, especially after the ‘Hays Code’ had gone into effect in 1934.  Many gay actors and actresses had been forced to keep their sexual orientation a deep secret or risk losing everything.

     They were made to go to premiers and industry parties with dates arranged for and approved by the studios and many had been given the directive, 'marry or don’t work.'  In 1930s and 1940s Hollywood the big five studios, MGM, Paramount, RKO, 20th Century Fox and Warner Brothers or namely the studio executives held all the power. They often held the careers of actors, directors, and writers in their hands. The saying, “power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely” was never more appropriate than in those days in Hollywood. 

     As bad and restrictive as it was, there were good things. Once an actor, actress or director was under contract their future was pretty much set. You usually had multi-picture deals which meant a steady paycheck and the studios basically did everything for you.  
From acting and voice lessons to travel arrangements. They would find and often times even buy you a home to live in and covered up any . . . indiscretions that might happen.

     Noah’s gaze sat fixed on Kyle. “The Studio System was a harsh mistress, Kyle.” 

     “Which studio were you under contract with? Did the Studio always dictate everything that happened with all their films?” Kyle asked eagerly.

     Noah’s gaze seemed to shift and memories seemed to take over his face. “They owned everything and everyone.”

     “Hey, babe.” Brett’s soft voice made both men jump slightly. 

     Kyle turned to watch as his boyfriend quietly approached the two of them, throwing a gentle smile at the older gentleman in the wheelchair as he came to a stop behind Kyle.  Kyle turned slowly back to Noah and decided that before they got too far into this volunteer/patient relationship maybe he should be crystal clear about his lifestyle. 

     “Noah Snyder, this is my boyfriend, Brett Allen.” Kyle made the introduction with a nervous smile. He tried to relax into the gentle squeeze of the hand now on his shoulder.

     Noah’s clear, blue eyes seemed to be glued to that hand for a second before they snapped up to Brett’s smiling face. Kyle again saw something flash across the man’s face. He tried hard to identify it. The only word to describe it that came to mind was . . . loss. Then it just vanished.

     “Nice to meet you, Brett. Sarah told me that you were a director, me too. At least, in my former life.” Noah said softly with a chuckle. 

     “Once a Director, always a Director in my book.” Brett said as he knelt down beside Kyle.

     “Yeah, you love telling everyone around you what to do.” Kyle barked a laugh.

     “But you still love me.” Brett whispered up at his boyfriend.

     Kyle was caught by Brett’s deep chocolate eyes so full of love and adoration and instinctively reached out to caress Brett’s stubbled cheek. “Yes, I do.”  Their eyes locked for a long second before they both remembered that they weren’t alone and pulled back. Brett quickly cleared his throat trying to regain some composure as he glanced over at the elderly man and saw a small smile on his face and a twinkle in those shockingly blue eyes.

     “Just wanted to let you know that I’ll probably be done with Sally in about a half hour.” He said as he stood up.

     “Oh.” Kyle said hesitantly as he looked over at Noah. He had thought they would have a little more time to get to know each other. He didn’t want the man to think he was running out on him.

     “It’s fine, Kyle. I’ve got another physical therapy session in an hour.” Noah smiled and then winked. “Can’t keep your guy waiting.”

     Kyle couldn’t believe it, he actually started blushing as Brett and Noah both started laughing.

     “Well, okay then. Brett, I’ll meet you at Sarah’s desk in a half hour.” Kyle said as he stood up.

     “Sounds great.” Brett turned to Noah. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Snyder.” Brett and Noah shook hands and then Brett was quickly walking back down the hallway.

     “So, would you like me to walk with you to your therapy session before I leave?” Kyle asked as he turned back to Noah.

     “Actually, I need to get my therapy log from my room.” Noah said as he slowly released the wheel brake on his chair. “I wouldn’t mind a hand getting there.”

     “Sure.” Kyle said as he walked around and slowly helped to turn the chair in the direction Noah indicated. It only took a few moments before they reached the door of Noah’s room. Kyle quickly went around and held the door open as Noah rolled inside. Noah jerked his head as an indication for Kyle to follow him in.

     Kyle was brought to a stand still by the walls of the room. They were covered by dozens and dozens of pictures, most black and white and obviously old. As Noah stopped his chair in front of the desk in the corner of the room, Kyle walked across the room transfixed by the images in front of him.  He had been right when he assumed Noah would be tall because staring out from many of the pictures was a smiling, younger Noah with his hair a wavy mass of shining black curls, striking eyes, and always the telltale lopsided grin.

     There were dozens of pictures of Noah on set, working. Pictures with people he could only assume were actors and friends. One picture where Noah stood posing, uncomfortably it appeared, with Craig Montgomery. Kyle knew that he had been the powerful head of 20th Century Fox during most of the 1940s and 1950s. He had the reputation of power gone a mock. His time as the head of the studio had been hell on earth according to many.

     Kyle slowly moved down the wall looking at each picture, a small snapshot of Noah Snyder’s life and Kyle was enthralled. A soft throat clearing brought Kyle out of his trance and there it was again, the knowing grin.

     “Pictures of me during the ‘Golden Age.’” The older man smirked.

     “That’s Craig Montgomery of 20th Century Fox, isn’t it?” Kyle asked as he pointed to the picture that now was over his shoulder on the wall.

     Noah’s face visibly paled at the mention of the name.  “Yes, it is.” He answered in a low voice as he gazed at the picture in question. 

     “I read he was a real bastard.” Kyle said quietly sensing a story behind the man’s reaction.

     Noah’s gaze slowly slipped from the picture and landed on Kyle’s inquiring stare. “Bastard would be . . . a decided compliment for Mr. Montgomery.” He whispered, visibly shaken.

     Kyle watched as the man in front of him seemed to be caught as memories almost seemed to overwhelm him.  “Are you okay, Noah?” Kyle asked in concern.

     Noah jerked himself away from the visions of Craig Montgomery and all of the devastation that he had created in his life and the lives of so many people he had loved. He looked up into those caring eyes again and found himself smiling involuntarily. “I’m fine, Kyle.”  
Noah sat looking at the young screenwriter as he stood looking down at him as if considering whether to believe what Noah had said or not. He watched as Kyle slowly turned back to the pictures and moved forward until he stood in front of a large one that held a prominent place on the wall.  Noah found himself wondering if it could actually be as easy as this. That the person that _he_ had always said would appear in their lives would simply just walk into it, unannounced, when the time had come.

     Kyle stopped at a picture slightly larger than the rest and by itself on its portion of the wall. It seemed to be a family portrait of some kind. It had a joyously smiling Noah, older than most of the other black and white photos. He was standing with his left arm wrapped around the waist of a breathtakingly beautiful woman. The woman also was smiling into the camera, her black hair flowing down her back, slightly wind blown, with large, liquid brown eyes also holding a smile in their depths.

     In her arms was the obvious cause of such joy. A small bundle wrapped in a baby blanket held close to her body, a mass of dark curls spilling out from the top and a small angelic face.  It would have been like any other family portrait if it wasn’t for the fact that another brightly smiling man was on the opposite side of the woman. He also had his arm around the beaming woman’s waist. He looked to be about the same age as Noah and the woman. His face held a large, open-mouthed smile and eyes that seemed to be dancing with a joy that only those in the picture could fathom. 

     Noah watched as the younger man stood staring at the picture in front of him. His eyes riveted to the scene before him. Noah was struck by the similarities between the young man standing in front of him with another man he had first met over 60 years earlier.  
He shook his head to rid himself of the memories that always flooded back whenever he thought about him. Tried to shake away the grief and sorrow that always followed close behind.

     As Kyle turned from the picture he watched as Noah silently started rolling toward the still open door of his room.  “It was nice meeting you, Kyle.” Noah slowly smiled at the young man. “Along with Brett.”

     Kyle glanced quickly back at the picture and then back to the older man in front of him. He couldn’t explain it but the picture pulled at him, pulled at his heart and his mind. Begging the question that was now racing around in his head be asked. He watched as Noah slowly quirked his eyebrows as if asking, ‘yes.’  “Mr. Snyder, is that your family?” He asked hesitantly.

     Noah considered him quietly for a moment.  “Will I be seeing you next Saturday, Kyle?”

     Kyle was caught off-guard by the question. If you had asked him when he first arrived the answer would have been a resounding, no. Now his mind said, yes. The knowing grin and the sparkling eyes of Noah Snyder having drawn him in.  “Yes, if you would like that.” He answered with a shy smile.

     “I would because I think Sarah was right, we do have much in common.” Noah said slowly. He watched as Kyle’s eyes were again pulled back to the picture, curiosity evident.  “Ask me again, Kyle?” Noah whispered still with the lopsided grin.

     The young man was caught by the mischievous look in the older man’s eyes. The man knew he was curious and wanted him to ask the questions that were pulling at him.  “Who are they, Noah?” The question breathed out.

     Noah looked down with a sigh and a smile before he turned back toward the door.   “That’s my family. My wife . . . “ He said glancing back over his shoulder.  “And my husband . . .” 

     Kyle seemed frozen in place.

     “And our daughter.” 

     Kyle wondered if, maybe, they had shut the oxygen supply off.

     “I’ll see you next Saturday, Kyle.” Noah grinned openly as he slowly made his way out the door leaving a dumbfounded volunteer behind.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

     “Damn it.” Kyle hissed as he sat back from the laptop in frustration.

     Brett glanced over from where he was standing in the bathroom shaving. “Can I help?”

     Kyle reached up and rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “No.”

     Grabbing a towel, Brett quickly wiped off the last remnants of shave cream. “What’s been driving you nuts this week? Every time I see you you’re on the computer obviously trying to find something.” He said as he walked over and placed his hand on his partner’s shoulder, squeezing it. “You’ve been distracted all week.”

     Distracted was an understatement. Kyle had to admit even to himself he was borderline obsessed. Had been ever since the previous Saturday and meeting one Noah Snyder. To say that Kyle had been stunned by Noah’s blithe admission of having both a wife and a husband and both in the same photograph would have put it mildly.

     “Kyle?” Brett’s worried voice broke into his thoughts.

     “I’m fine, Brett.” He said, closing his laptop. “Just some research that’s not panning out.”

     “Again, can I help?” Brett asked looking down hopefully at his visibly frustrated boyfriend. 

     Kyle stood and reached up framing Brett’s face with his hands. “Babe, I’m fine. I’ll find what I need eventually. It’s not that important anyway.”

     “Really?” Brett asked skeptically.

     “Really.” Kyle smiled. Brett might be helpful but Kyle was pretty sure that trying, and failing miserably, to Google any and all information on the patient you’ve just been paired with as a volunteer probably wasn’t looked on favorably by the Wasserman Center or his boyfriend.

     Kyle glanced over at the clock and noticed the time with a shock. “Oh God, it’s that late? I’ve got to hurry.” He pulled away heading to the bathroom. “Are you going to be getting ready so we can go?”

     Brett watched as Kyle seemed to fly around the bathroom in a whirlwind.  “Go where?”

     Kyle looked at his partner in confusion. “Wasserman. We’ve got to leave soon.” He said as he started brushing his teeth.

     Brett’s slight smile brought him up short. “What?”

     “This isn’t my weekend but obviously you want to go back.” Brett’s smile became even bigger. “Mr. Snyder has got you interested, huh?”

     Kyle stood there, brush frozen in mid-stroke. He had forgotten that this wasn’t one of Brett’s weekends at the Center.

     “You’re still going to go, right?” Brett asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed to pull his socks on.

     Kyle stood looking at himself in the mirror as he finished brushing. He hadn’t ever thought about helping with Brett’s project at the retirement home. His own memories of his grandfather’s final days too clear and crisp to let him, but after meeting Noah Snyder and knowing that there was a story there, probably a great story, he couldn’t imagine not going.

     “I’ll be back by five o’clock. Think about where you want to go to dinner.” He said as he hurriedly crossed their bedroom to the closet.

     Brett leaned over trying to hid the huge smile that he now couldn’t wipe off his face if he tried. ‘God, I love my boyfriend.’

 

* * *

  
     “So, just couldn’t stay away from the mystery could you?” Noah said by way of greeting. Smiling shyly as he gazed across the small reflecting pond sparkling in the mid-morning sun.

     Kyle stood smiling broadly at the man before him. He’d just managed to escape the smiling and hugging clutches of Sarah when he had walked in the front door, greeted with an ‘I knew you’d come back. I could see it in your eyes’ from the elderly woman.

     “Well, that’s what you intended when you casually throw your statement out there and then left.” Kyle grinned as he lowered himself to the nearby bench.

     And . . . there was the grin. “True, true.” Noah laughed.

     Kyle stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles and looked out over the pond breathing in the peace that obviously Noah found here each morning. "So Noah, will you talk to me about it?” He asked without taking his eyes off the pond. He could hear Noah’s movements still as he waited for the answer to the question he’d been wanting to ask for the past week.

     He finally pulled his gaze from the water and found eyes bluer than the sky reflected in the pond locked on his.

     Noah seemed to be lost in thought for a time before he, slowly, answered. “I’ve never told anyone everything.” He breathed. “Not even Ameera, my wife, knew everything about our lives.”

     “She didn’t know that you’re gay?” Kyle asked quietly.

     Noah laughed, merriment dancing in his eyes. “No, she knew even before we were married that I was . . . queer. Society wasn’t as polite back then. She always knew and was my best friend.”

     “So what didn’t she know about?” Kyle leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

     Noah held Kyle’s gaze as if trying to take the measure of the man in front of him. “She didn’t know what a lifetime of secrets and lies sometimes require a person to do in order to keep them. To keep the people they love safe.”

     Kyle sat thinking about that statement. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of keeping his being gay so secret that it effected every part of your life. He couldn’t, that was the problem.

     Even though he and Brett fought about the whole marriage issue, at least he knew that they could still live their lives, work, go out and just _be_ without the fear of losing their jobs, their livelihood, possibly even their lives. “Did your husband know all of it?” The question slipping out before he even realized it.

     Noah hesitated for a moment. “He knew more than even I suspected. Sometimes I think he’s the only one that knew everything. How heavy a burden that most have been.” The last said in almost a wistful manner.

     “How long were you together?” Kyle asked.

     “Ameera and I were married for 35 years.” Noah said in a shaking voice as his eyes shifted back toward the pond. “Luke and I were only married 15 years but we had been together for almost 59 years.”

     Kyle sat still in shock. 59 years. It was astonishing to think of being with someone that long. “They’re both passed?” He asked carefully.

     Noah’s smile was a lost one, full of memories. “Ameera’s been gone since 1980, Luke since 2007.” Noah turned and could see the preoccupied look on the younger man’s face. The number of years together with both his wife and husband was undoubtedly causing some confusion.

     Kyle slowly focused on the man in front of him. “You were with them at the same time. Did they know about each other?” The memory of the photo hanging on Noah’s bedroom looming large.

     “Yes.” Was the simple answer. Although Kyle was positive, nothing about Noah’s life and his relationships had been simple.

     “They were best friends almost from the moment they met until the day she died.” Noah whispered. “Losing her had hurt Luke almost as much as it did me.”

     Kyle sat trying to comprehend everything that was being said. Noah had been married to both a woman and a man. They each had known about the other and had, in fact, been friends. Kyle had been right when he had thought that there was a story inside Noah Snyder. He just hadn’t guessed how much of a story.

     Noah shifted, a gentle smile replacing the frown that had appeared when talking about his late wife and husband. “You writers are all the same.” The elderly man grinned at the almost affronted look that came over Kyle’s face. “Luke was the same way. Saw a screenplay in everything.”

     “Your husband was a writer?” Kyle asked surprised, the parallels in his and Noah’s life becoming more and more apparent.

     A momentary flash of only what could be described as hurt passed through Noah’s crystal clear eyes. “He didn’t start out as one. He came to Hollywood to become an actor. He was for a time.” He whispered as his gaze was again pulled out to the pond.

     Kyle hesitated. He had a million questions to ask, but really he didn’t know Noah Snyder. How much would the man be willing to share? And why with him a complete stranger?

     “You’re thinking too loud, Kyle.” Noah said with a soft laugh.

     Kyle grinned at the remark. Brett often said that he thought louder than anyone he knew. “Why?” He asked, watching Noah.

     Noah held Kyle’s gaze. “Why what?”

     “Well, you said you have never told everyone everything. Why me?”

     Blue and hazel locked as the older man sat still, trying to form an answer that would actually make sense. “Do you believe in fate, Kyle?”

     Kyle jerked back slightly at the question. ‘How could this man know?’ He swallowed hard. “Yes, I do. Why?”

     Noah sat staring at him. “Luke was a huge believer in fate. He believed that everything . . . _everything_ happened for a reason.”

     “So do I.” Kyle whispered fiercely. “Do you?”

     The lopsided grin suddenly was there again. “Me? Not so much.” Noah laughed shortly and than sobered quickly. “At least, I hadn’t. Now, I’m not so sure.”

     Kyle sat waiting, wondering if the elderly man would continue.

     “Luke always thought that someone should know our story, the whole story.” Noah looked down at his weathered hands that were clinched in his lap. “I never wanted to. People would get hurt, be upset, be exposed for who and what they were.”

     “And now?” Kyle’s whispered question floated across the space between them.

     “Now . . . no one’s left that could be hurt.” Noah answered in a shaken voice. “I’m the only one left.”

     Kyle watched as Noah’s throat worked. He was obviously trying to swallow down his emotions.

     “Luke made me promise that I’d tell someone our story and when I use to say I didn’t know if I could he would always say that when the time came fate would bring someone into my life and I would know.” Noah’s sparkling eyes were suddenly focused back on Kyle. “Kyle, could you help me back to my room?”

     Kyle snapped out of his thoughts. “Sure. Of course.”

     Within moments Noah was once again sitting in front of the desk in the corner of his room and Kyle was standing, mesmerized again by the portrait in front of him. Looking at the picture now with the knowledge of just exactly who everyone was made the nuances of each smile, each arm placement even more intriguing.

     For his part, Noah sat looking at the thick leather-bond book he now clutched in his lap. It had been many years since he had even held it, let alone read it. The words inside too close, too personal, too . . . _him_. He sat wondering if the young man behind him was the one that Luke had said would show up when it was time for their story to finally be known.

     Noah hadn’t wanted to believe in fate. He hadn’t believed in God since the day that he had finally fled his father’s house almost 70 years ago. He had firmly believed that there wasn’t any higher power, no all-knowing, all-loving being that watched over us. And after everything he'd seen, everything he'd lived through, he still believed that. Luke had been another story. He never gave up believing, always believed in that higher power. He had held that everything had been fated, his meeting Noah, Ameera, and most especially their Cassandra. Yes, Luke had known that this day would come. Noah had no doubt.

     “Kyle, could you sit, please.” Noah said slowly as he turned his wheelchair around and sat and watched as Kyle quickly pulled up a chair from across the room. He could see that the young writer’s eyes hadn’t missed the book in his lap. Noah looked down, closed his eyes and took a deep breath and slowly held the book out to Kyle.

     The book hung there in the slightly shaking hand of the old man. Kyle looking at it in wonder as he slowly reached out and took the offered book. He held the worn leather book in both hands and his eyes traveled over the faded brown cover with the embossed ‘Journal’ on the front. ‘A diary? Noah’s diary?’ Kyle’s heart nearly stopped as his fingers tightened protectively around the edges of the old book.

     “Noah, are you sure?” His voice held a quivering note in it.

     Noah considered the man in front of him quietly for a few moments. “Luke once said that the person that needed to know and understand our story would one day be put into my life.” The older man took a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s an accident or coincidence that you suddenly decided to come to a place you had never been to before and were paired with me. Our lives and loves just seem too similar for it not to be fate.”

     It was almost eerie hearing his own thoughts coming out of the other man’s mouth.

     “You can read it while you visit but it’s going to have to stay here.” Noah took another breath, this one seemed to shake his entire body. “I’m just not ready to let it or him go.”

     Kyle was confused about that statement until he opened the book and read the inscription on the cover page of the journal.

  
**_“My Life Up Until Now”_ **   
**_by Luke Edward Snyder_ **

  
     “It’s not your diary.” Kyle breathed out in surprise.

     “No, it’s not.” Noah said with a slow smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
